Like Father, Like Son
by dvpdvpdvp
Summary: Bass and Connor head up from Mexico. As they near Willoughby, they come across Charlie. Still Angry at Bass for convincing him to leave Mexico under the false promise of ruling the Monroe Republic together, Connor tries to create a little trouble for his dad. This is (very) loosely inspired by ep 2.10, The Three Amigos. Charloe-esque.


The trip up from Mexico reminded Monroe of some of the family road trips he experienced as a kid. Sure they were fun, until some disagreement arose between parent and child…then the trip just became painful. He now had a greater respect for what his parents had to put up with, what with there being three children. He only has the one kid and the last few hours had been a little excruciating. They had been traveling with little to no conversation...only the sounds of the rolling wagon-that the three amigos had acquired in Mexico-to break up the silence.

Sure, perhaps things would have gone off better if he hadn't…misled…Connor into thinking that he wanted some sort of ruling dynasty for what was left of the Monroe Republic. He knew that appealing to the hardened boy's sense of duty wouldn't work. But power? Feeling of importance? Of being somebody? Sure, he'd have better luck with that.

Problem was, while the idea of being President Monroe still had its lure, he realized that he was just plain tired: tired of being a target, tired of being a leader, and especially tired of being responsible for thousands of people who would just end up frying in their own skins.

He also realized that he would never be able to face Charlie again if he turned back into General Monroe. Not just because he didn't want to see the betrayed look on her face, but also because he knew if he ever did face her again, he would be looking down the barrel of her gun or crossbow or whatever weapon she had at the time. There would be no more second chances with that one.

"You know, lying to your kid to get him to do something is not a solid parenting strategy," he heard from behind him in the wagon, knocking him out of his thoughts. He had nearly forgotten that Connor was back there. How could he have been so obsessed with finding his son, then got so distracted by his own thoughts that he momentarily forgot he wasn't alone on this trek.

"And you are basing that knowledge on your vast experience as a father yourself?" he asked, and then paused. "Right? I don't have any grandkids running around somewhere that I won't find out about for another twenty years?"

"No, not that I know of," Connor sarcastically groused. He was still pissed that his "concerned" father had played him. "So where are we headed and where did Miles and his wife go to?"

That made Bass smile ruefully. "She's not his wife. They were following up a lead and will be meeting up with us in Texas in a while."

"So why didn't we go with them?" At least there would have been some adventure…maybe even a little violence. After getting no response, other than a half-hearted shoulder shrug, he tried again. "What has you so anxious to get back to…what did you say the name of the town was?"

"I didn't." Now Bass understood the aggravation Charlie must have felt during their little journey through the Plains' Nations. _God_, that felt like years ago. Had it really only been weeks?

Connor didn't miss the fact that his father neglected to answer the first question. There's something there that Bass didn't want to share with his son. If it was a secret worth Bass keeping, it was obviously a secret worth Connor exploiting. He let the matter drop for now.

x ~ x ~ x ~ x ~ x

The sun had set a while back and Connor noticed his dad getting more and more edgy.

"So, we're almost there?"

"Yeah." He knew his entire existence was getting more stressed and was impressed (and proud, and annoyed) that his son was able to pick up on that. He slowed the wagon down some and kept scanning the area. "Last I saw, this area was crawling with Patriots. I doubt that has changed since we left so keep your eyes open."

Could that be what was causing his father's anxiety…these "Patriots?" He sure didn't know the man, but he knew of General Monroe and doubted that an "enemy" would have him so anxious. It had to be more personal.

"What's on your mind?" Connor wasn't the only one studying his traveling companion. "You seem to be contemplative."

"Maybe I'm just plotting."

_Great_, though Bass. Maybe it was just as well that he didn't want to pursue some sort of return to power with his son in tow. He knew of many examples throughout history where a father was betrayed by a son because of greed or thirst for power.

"Did you see that?" Connor asked while pointing up ahead.

Bass didn't see anything but was immediately on high alert.

"There was someone on the road, but jumped into that tall grass." Connor was actually hoping this was going to lead to a fight. He was feeling restless. Plus, the thought of seeing General Monroe in action held a certain level of intrigue. That is if this Daddy Bass was even capable of being that man anymore. Based on what he'd observed so far, he wasn't so sure. No doubt his father was tough. He'd endured capture and torture…at his own hand…without breaking. But his continued displays of what Connor could only describe as weakness towards him really made him doubt if he was really the ruthless General Monroe everyone heard about.

The wagon came to a stop and Bass was about to jump down from the bench when he just got this feeling. He wasn't sure if it was dread, anticipation, excitement. Just that the air seem filled with electricity.

"Monroe?" floated the familiar voice from within the brush.

Connor was immediately surprised by two things. First, his father immediately relaxed, almost to the point of sagging where he stood. Secondly, the figure that had been walking on the road alone at night had been a female.

"Yeah. It's me."

"Are you alone?" Charlie emerged into the road looking around and looking a little confused. "Where are…"

"They are following up a lead. With any luck, they'll be here in less than a day…Two at the most. Can I give you lift somewhere?" He asked with a bit of humor.

God, did his dad look hopeful? Caring? Concerned? Smitten? And then it clicked. This was why he headed back here so quickly. He studied the girl as she climbed into the back of the wagon, coming up short when she spotted the stranger.

"Charlie. This is Connor Bennett. My son." He had no idea what her response would be. He knew that she was aware why Miles and her mom had headed to Mexico with him, but had no clue how she would act. Would she gladly welcome a new person into the fold? Maybe she will just be happy to have someone around her own age.

Not that he wanted them hanging out. He loved his son completely, but he was also absolutely sure that he didn't trust him to be a gentleman. He had been living in a town full of prostitutes and a drug cartel and as a leader in that small pond he probably hadn't been the most respectable person around women. _Like father like son_, he thought as he remembered how he treated women back in Philadelphia when he was in power. They were there for his amusement and pleasure. Period.

"Hi." Charlie said cautiously. She didn't know what to make of the newest Monroe. Was he more Emma or more Bass? "So I guess curly hair is hereditary," she dead-panned as she sat across the wagon from him. He appeared outwardly sweet, but at the same time, there was this familiar sense of manipulation coming from him.

Connor was surprised. She seemed young to actually be with his father. But that was common in his town. Most of the cartel members had mistresses in their twenties or even teens. And many of those men were well into their fifties and sixties and no one thought twice about it. The women were cared for and the men had walking trophies hanging off their arms.

She also didn't act like she was with his father. They obviously knew each other, were familiar. But there was this modicum of distance between them. He decided to stir the pot. "So, Charlie. How do you know my dad? Where you with him in Philadelphia?" He hoped he got the balance between neutrality and suggestiveness he was shooting for.

Charlie froze. She wasn't sure what Connor meant by "with" and really had no desire to ask for further clarification.

"She's Miles' niece." Bass added from his perch on the bench up front. "And a bit of a bad ass, so don't mess with her."

Connor nodded with understanding. Understanding of how this woman fit in with his dad and Miles… and an understanding that his dad just issued a veiled threat to not touch. Still being pissed at him for his faux promises of power, Connor decided now was the time for some payback. "Oh, _that_ Charlie."

Charlie figured it made sense that Monroe would have filled his son in on the people he would be meeting. So didn't give it too much thought, though the emphasis of the word "that" made her a little curious. Was she the Charlie _that_ he had to rescue from a bar after being drugged or the Charlie _that_ nearly assassinated him in New Vegas or the Charlie _that_ stepped in front the gun of his most feared interrogators?

"You're right dad," Connor started, loudly enough to be heard from upfront. Bass was little surprised but pleased at Connor's casual-and nearly comfortable-use of the term _dad_. That should have clued him in that the proverbial shit was about to hit the fan. "She _is_ fucking hot. I see why you think about her when you jack off."

Bass wasn't sure the best response to take. He knew he had never said those things about Charlie. At least not out loud and certainly not to his son. This was payback pure and simple. He couldn't blame the kid. He had lied to him and took him away from where he felt important. But Charlie was being dragged into this and the camaraderie they had begun to establish was tenuous at best. It's bad enough it will likely be ruined by something he will do in the near future. He didn't need it ruined by something he didn't do.

"Does she taste as sweet as she looks?" Connor smirked. He knew his dad was agitated. Charlie, however, didn't show any discernible emotion. He figured she would be livid thinking that this old man was telling his son lewd and lascivious stories about her, but if she was, she hid it well.

The wagon came to a sudden stop. "Get down here now," Monroe gritted between his teeth. "Apparently you weren't raised to treat women with respect so I'd like a word with you. Fatherly duty and all," he added sarcastically. He avoided looking at Charlie as he spoke and while he waited for Connor to step down from the wagon. He was feeling very much like a hypocrite but he couldn't _not_ say anything. At least let them hash out their issues of fake world domination without giving Charlie nightmares…or the need for therapy for the rest of her life.

But of course Connor just didn't know when to quit. Still speaking loud enough for Charlie to hear, he continued as he hopped out of the wagon, "So how possessive are you with your women? I mean is it OK if I fuck her too? Mmm. The thought of her ankles around my neck while I pound into her..." He really knew he should stop, but was enjoying the misery he was causing his father, no matter how fleeting or minor, so he continued on. "Or, I know, I bet she is the type to like a little father and son action…" That was about all he got out before he felt the uppercut on his jaw.

Holy Hell. Monroe took a swing at him! He knew he completely deserved it, but didn't think Mr. Wanna-be-dad-of-the-year would actually lay a hand on him over a girl and it pissed him off even more than he had been at the man. He lunged at Monroe and before you could yell "family counseling" the two men were duking it out like a couple drunken frat buddies.

Charlie watched the sight of the two men fighting with irritation. She knew Connor was just saying shit to piss Monroe off. It wasn't outside the realm of possibilities that he had already pissed his son off in some way. Why he thought she would make a good focus for the verbal sparring, she wasn't sure. No, she knew why. She was just surprised that Connor picked up on the tension between the two of them. Maybe she had shown her hand when she stepped out of the brush. Maybe her face had been too open with the delight of seeing Monroe was back.

She had missed him. She had seen the look of shock and disappointment in her grandfather's face when she killed the patriots in front of him. She was irritated when she had to question him what he thought she was going to do when he had asked for her help in finding out what the patriots were hauling. It made her feel like a cold blooded killer. Not in the pragmatic way, but in the horrible person way. Good, bad, or indifferent, Monroe never made her feel like that.

She looked up from her thoughts to see the two men still fighting. She was really not in the mood for this and she wasn't someone's pawn. She hopped up onto the front of the wagon, grabbed the reigns, and urged the horses into action, leaving the spontaneous fight club behind.

She was a ways down the road before the two men realized they had been left behind.

"A little over dramatic isn't it?" Connor asked as he watched the wagon shrink off into the distance. "So, how far is she going to go for her to make her point?"

"Probably about three miles."

"That's a bit far to go before coming back, isn't it?" Connor asked, surprised when Bass' face split into a big smile.

"Oh, she's not coming back. She isn't a drama queen. And she doesn't put up with crap. Congratulations. You blew your one chance to make a good first impression with her."

"So, you're saying I can pretty much count on her _not_ being an ally?" Connor asked, glad his father let the topic of his earlier obnoxious behavior drop, at least for now.

Bass shook his head, knowingly. "Not at all. You've just made it harder for yourself. She is the forgiving type…whether you deserve it or not."

Without further comment, Bass started down the road towards home.


End file.
